A raw and unapologetic declaration of identity and values. T.J. Scott’s manifesto explores authenticity, personal truth, and the fight against conformity.
What is a manifesto? A declaration of intent, a compass guiding us through the labyrinth of life. Yet, here I stand, at the crossroads of Legacy Lane and Humanity Drive, wondering, “Is it we who shape our destinies, or is it our destinies that shape us?” Alarmingly, manifestos often fade into the white noise of our digital age, barely registering a blip on the radar. Why is it that only in the aftermath of nefarious deeds does society pay heed to them?
My mother, a beacon of hope, once said, “Take pride in what you do.” And I tried. In service to my country, in the military, there was purpose, even if the pay never did justice to the sacrifices made. The choice was mine: to protect, to serve. But every choice comes with its shadows. Had I stayed in that uniform, would the face of my beloved ever have graced my life?
Today, I find myself on the precipice, grappling with my own demons. Does my DNA dictate my destiny? Should I guard my family from the unseen dangers lurking in Mexico’s corners? How much should I reveal without jeopardizing the very essence of who we are?
The realm of sanity has its boundaries, yet I often find myself traversing the blurry line between reason and madness. For in the heart of desperation, under the veil of sacrifice, my life has unfolded as an ode to a ceaseless struggle, punctuated by moments of anguish, hope, and profound love for my family.
Childhood games of good vs. evil today seem like a foreshadowing of the real world. This constant tug of war between right and wrong, where lines blur and morals waver. A question looms large: “Does good truly triumph over evil?”
The stories I tell, the emotions I express—they are mine, but they are also universally human. When life hands you lemons, they say, make lemonade. As I trekked across the country, my feet bearing the weight of every stride, I sought the sugar and water to complete that age-old recipe. I was trying to gather the ingredients not just for lemonade but to weave the fabric of a legacy.
In the eyes of many, I am but a man—perhaps eccentric, perhaps normal. But beneath this façade lies the heart of a mad scientist, experimenting with life, juggling variables, mixing emotions, and fervently hoping for an alchemical transformation to turn my despair into gold.
I have wept. Oh, how I have wept! Tears so scalding they’ve scathed my very soul, leaving marks that might never heal. My face, an embodiment of the tumultuous storm brewing within, remains flushed with the weight of a million worries. For while I showcase a semblance of normalcy, my reality is but a fragile house of cards, precariously teetering on the edge of collapse. One gust of wind, one misstep, and the entire edifice could crumble.
The echoes of 9/11 reverberate through my being. It’s my Pearl Harbor—a date forever imprinted on my soul, shaping not just my short military stint but molding the perceptions of countless others. We are products of our time. The movies we watch, the music we listen to—they mold us. Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20. While the military pay was modest, the purpose it instilled was unparalleled.
James Cameron once mused, “You have to have made the commitment within yourself to do whatever it takes to get the job done and to try to inspire other people to do it because, obviously, the first rule is you can’t do it by yourself.” I couldn’t agree more. Life is not a solitary journey. We all need assistance, a helping hand, or a shoulder to lean on.
In Mexico, it’s not the convenience store my wife and I hold dearly that concerns me, although its very existence remains on legal quicksand. It’s not the language barrier that ties my tongue and hands in knots as I venture through Mexico, a place I now will call home for a minimum of six months. Nor is it the looming debt of my education or the burning desire to fix my sister-in-law’s tiara, a symbol of innocent joy now shattered by unforeseen circumstances.
It is the silence. The deafening silence of my sacrifices that echoes in my ears, reminding me of the life I’ve chosen.
My genes, my very DNA, often lead me to ponder: Am I bound by them? Are they the unbreakable shackles that predestine my fate? Or can the nurture of my environment overcome the nature of my genetics? This exploration forms the crux of my second book, “Stumbling In The Dark Looking For The Light Switch: Genetic Predisposition”. It’s a journey into the heart of what makes us who we are. Our genetics, our upbringing, our choices—everything plays a part.
Our genetic blueprint, our inherited tales and scars, do they define us? Or is there room for rewriting our stories? As I pondered these questions, a thought echoed: “Am I my own impediment?” There were moments, like a soldier standing sentinel, where purpose was clear, even if sacrifices seemed insurmountable. The choice was mine: to serve, to protect. Yet choices cast shadows, and sometimes, the shadows loom large.
I’ve felt anxiety’s icy grip, strangling my resolve, threatening to drown me in despair. The overwhelming urge to shout, “God, please take me home,” has often been a silent scream in the night. These emotions, raw and unbridled, are the very essence of humanity.
Many are oblivious to the truth that, in the land of the free, my sanctuary is a confined space on four wheels—a car. While my family in Mexico blossoms in a home, albeit incomplete, I wither away in solitude, miles away, embracing darkness for their dawn. An unsung hero? Perhaps. But heroes seek no validation. My validation is the happiness of my loved ones, even if it demands my unseen tears and muffled cries.
I invite you to dive deep into the topics of my writings on familyreunitenetwork.com. Titles like “Why Is Immigration So Controversial?” and “What Gives A Person Courage?” aim to inspire thought and prompt action. Additionally, “Stumbling In The Dark Looking For The Light Switch: Memoir” is a testament to my life’s journey, and its success could be the catalyst that propels my family forward.
In the maze of life, I’ve felt lost, hopelessly stumbling in the dark. My hopes, dreams, and aspirations have often clashed with the stark reality of life. “Life sucks, then you die,” they quip. Yet, isn’t there more to our existence than that? Aren’t there moments of joy, love, and triumph to counterbalance the trials and tribulations?
For three months, I embarked on this digital journey, hoping my website would serve as a beacon for prosperity. Yet, like many voyages into the unknown, it met with despair. Not a glimmer, not a shimmer. With every click and scroll, the reality of its failure gnawed at me, yet the mad scientist persisted.
But though the clock, the eternal nemesis of man, ticks away. Six months on a tourist visa—a countdown that looms over me like the sword of Damocles—threatens to sever the fragile thread of hope I cling to.
Emotionally, I am ensnared in a whirlwind, torn between responsibility and the unforgiving hands of fate. Every waking moment is a testament to resilience, an epic battle between the heart’s yearning and reality’s cruelty. Each week, I toil for eighty grueling hours, hoping against hope that my efforts will bear fruit.
The indelible scars of 9/11 still mark my soul, not just as a day of monumental tragedy but also as a crucial juncture in my brief military tenure. Such experiences mold us, shape our perspectives, and give profound context to the lives we lead.
I pen down this manifesto as a desperate plea, a cry from the abyss, a call for understanding. It is the culmination of my experiences, the essence of my struggles, and the epitome of the paradox that is my life. I am the mad scientist, trying tirelessly to find the elixir that would bring solace to my turbulent heart.
I urge you, dear reader, to embark on this journey with me. Challenge norms, question the status quo, seek the truth, and above all, find your purpose. In the end, isn’t that what life’s all about?
“I do not remember my birth, nor will I remember my death.” -T.J. Scott
To those who happen upon this testament, understand that life is an unpredictable labyrinth. While some paths are illuminated, others are shrouded in obscurity. Today, I stand at a crossroad, yearning for a sign, a beacon, a glimmer of hope.
And as the ink dries, the words resonate with the profundity of my journey, echoing the sentiments of countless souls who have faced adversity head-on. For in the grand theater of life, where fate plays the puppeteer and circumstances pull the strings, I remain but a mere actor, reciting lines written by destiny.
To those who listen, to those who care, to those who’ve walked a mile in shoes of despair, know this:
“I’m still stumbling in the dark.”